


Catra and the Potatoes of Power

by for_t2



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol, Angst, Bad Decisions, Cooking, F/F, Gardens & Gardening, Happy Ending, Humor, Potatoes, Puns & Word Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 14:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20977523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_t2/pseuds/for_t2
Summary: Five times potatoes defeated Catra, and one time they helped heal her





	Catra and the Potatoes of Power

** 1.  
**

“Why aren’t you growing?”

Catra poked at the small plant in front of her. At the dirt around it.

“Do something, stupid.”

Adora always complained about being hungry. Not so much because the Horde didn’t feed them, but because she had a stupidly big appetite. And beside, the food in the Horde was shit, even if Adora didn’t realise it.

“Come onnn.”

Catra poked at the plant again. It was the best patch of dirt in the Fight Zone. She discovered it herself, one day when she was hiding from Shadow Weaver. She never really knew what to with it, but at least it was hers.

“Ugh.”

Catra slumped back. Glared at the stupid plant. It was a stupid idea. She was stupid. Stupid.

What Catra didn’t know was that the patch of dirt was still a patch of dirt because there had been a slight chemical spill one day. The building surrounding it used to be a weapons factory. Until an accident long before Catra’s arrival.

What Catra also didn’t know was that the spilled chemical was mutagenic.

“Stupid pota….”

The ground trembled beneath her feet. Hard.

What Catra did already know was that she had terrible luck.

The potato burst out the ground. Charged at Catra.

Oh, no.

**2.**

“Just add salt, and…”

Now that they were teenagers, Adora’s dumbass metabolism had only gotten faster. So Catra did the only logical thing she could do.

She threatened Kyle until he taught her how to cook potatoes. And then threatened him a little more to make sure he’d keep it a secret until he went to potato heaven. Maybe Rogelio was pissed at her now, but at least she got what she needed.

A few stolen potatoes, a couple cups of stolen water, a stolen pan, and the only spice Kyle insisted on: a couple pinches of salt.

Catra didn’t think it looked very good, but she made a few modifications to the recipe that she knows are going to work – some extra flavour she found in the depths of the Fright Zone. Besides, Adora will eat anything. And Catra knows she’d find anything Adora cooked for her delicious.

“Hey, Adora,” Catra drawled, not even needing to turn to know that Adora was behind her. One of the benefits of cat hearing.

“What’s that?” Adora popped over her shoulder, eyes wide.

Catra smiled.

The next morning, neither of them showed up at training.

Turns out that not all flavours mix well with potatoes.

That morning, Catra discovered the concept of food poisoning.

Shadow Weaver’s going to be pissed.

**3.**

“Here.”

Catra looked up from the hard floor beneath her. Lonnie was shoving a bottle of some clear liquid in her face. Catra didn’t want to dignify her with an answer.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

Catra hissed. “I hate water.”

Lonnie smirked. “It’s not water.”

That got Catra’s attention, just enough to pull her slightly out of her brooding.

“It’ll help.” Lonnie shoved the bottle fully into Catra’s lap. “But don’t tell Shadow Weaver.”

Catra examined the bottle. Sniffed the liquid. It didn’t smell like anything she’d ever smelled before. So she took a swig.

It burned.

But some people deserved to be burned. And if she couldn’t burn Adora, she might as well burn herself. It’s not like there’s anyone left to care.

So she took another swig. And another. And she missed the smirk growing wider on Lonnie’s face with each swig.

That night, Catra discovered the concept of vodka. That night, Catra also discovered the concept of drunkenness. And it felt good. Very very good. Catra was angry, and it spoke to her anger. Let her anger speak out.

But the morning after… Shadow Weaver was pissed.

**4.**

“What the—”

If Catra had time to blink, she might’ve wonder what the fuck a potato was doing, flying towards her. She might’ve wondered whether she was a little too focused on going after She-Ra. Whether the other princesses might also be a danger. How, exactly, a potato flies through the air.

But she didn’t.

Because the potato hit her dead on. And exploded, sending her flying backwards.

By the time she got back to her feet, the stupid heart guy, Arrow, or whatever his name was, was doing a proud jump, next to a smug looking She-Ra. “I knew it would work!”

And before Catra had time to process just what was going on, he had already recharged with a new arrow. A new potato.

“Behold,” he shouted out, “the might of the Bowtato!”

And before Catra could figure out what exactly that meant, the other Bright Moon soldiers were raising their bows – their potatoes – too.

Oh, shit.

**5.**

“Fuck this.”

One night, Catra decided she’d had enough.

Some nights later, Catra decided she’d really had enough.

And a few more nights later, Catra decided to move.

She knew the clock was ticking for her. That Hordak was never going to stop searching, and that, when he figured out that Catra lied, he was going to make Shadow Weaver look like the mother-of-the-year.

Besides, it’s not like there was any reason left for Catra to stay. No bags to pack. No goodbyes to say. Even Adora was ready to kill her. Which, Catra supposed, was a good thing. Her dying that is. But the thought of Adora becoming a killer, even it shouldn’t bother her, just seemed so wrong.

So Catra did the only logically thing.

She ran. 

Or, at least, that was the plan.

Before she stepped on a potato.

And the potato, all alone in the middle of some deep Fright Zone, wouldn’t let go of her. As much as Catra tried to kick and claw it off, it kept her stuck to the floor.

At first, Catra panicked.

Eventually, Catra gave up.

And eventually, moments before they found her, Catra remembered Entrapta muttering about some gene modification problems some long time ago. She had said something about something called Perfuma and how she was going to bring biology to the next level. For science.

There were a lot of things Catra wished she could regret.

But sometimes it’s too late.

**+1.**

“Fuck you!”

Famous last words, Catra thought, as she pounced one last time towards She-Ra’s sword.

She never made it. They had been fighting for so long, so desperately, that there just wasn’t any energy left in her to use. That was Hordak’s plan, she knew, to send her into a suicide mission on the pretense of redemption. That he could use her one last time, and maybe kill two birds with one stone.

In the end, she thought, stuck in the mud, it would just be one cat.

But, for some reason, when She-Ra loomed over her, when She-Ra raised her sword one last time, the only thing Catra’s body did was growl.

It was enough to make She-Ra stop still. Frown.

Catra tried to take advantage of the opportunity. But her stomach just growled again.

This time, She-Ra snorted.

“You think this is funny?” Catra sneered. “I’ll—” And her stomach growled even louder.

And this time, maybe because of the exhaustion, maybe because of the adrenaline rush, maybe because of some magical power, She-Ra absolutely lost it.

By the time Catra managed to pick herself up, Adora had managed to stop herself from laughing. Unfortunately, one look at the mud-soaked Catra set her off again.

All Catra could do was watch. Watch her, for what might be the last time, because even Catra can’t stop herself from having the tiniest bit of hope.

By the time her breath ran too short to keep laughing, Adora was just as soaked in mud. “I’m sorry.”

Catra really didn’t want to let herself hope.

“I never managed to find any cake for you,” Adora said, as if that one day, so many years ago, when they both aced a test, was just yesterday.

Catra was too exhausted to do anything but think that the hands of someone so beautiful might be the best way to die.

They sat there in silence.

“If you surrender,” Adora eventually said, her voice too quiet to be authoritative, almost as if she didn’t want to hope either, “you can eat anything you want in Bright Moon. I promise.”

And Catra wished she wasn’t too tired to cry.

Adora’s stomach chose this moment to growl too. So she reached over to the body of some Bright Moon guard. Pulled a Bowtato off the arrow. Offered it to Catra. “We can share.”

Catra blinked. “I hate potatoes.”

Adora laughed again. “Me too.”

In the end, Catra realised that she had a choice.

For once, she had a choice.

“Fine.”

It was the first of many.

**Author's Note:**

> Potato


End file.
